Posts from January 2021


January 29, 2021

I heard the other day that 100 pleats in a chef’s hat represent 100 ways to cook an egg. From eggs en cocotte to the classic omelette, there are few things as versatile and essential as an egg. I can count on one hand the times that a friend has prepared an egg for me. Boiled, fried, poached –– it always felt like an act of love. So simple, so noble. My Mum likes her eggs really baveuse which makes me squirm. But I’d sooner eat rubber than an overdone egg. It’s hard to image that there are that many ways to cook an egg. For me, it will always be boiled. Two minutes. Buttered soldiers.

colour field

January 29, 2021

Paul Jenkins poured garbage cans of paint on to a canvas to create his colour rich works. Colours merged; so much of his process was left up to chance. “It is a big gamble, and that is why I love it,” said Jenkins. He didn’t use paintbrushes, but rather guided the paint on its journey across the canvas. Indigo, cerulean, and ultramarine. The colours are Bird of Paradise bold. Have a look.


January 27, 2021

Clotilde Olyff is a Belgian graphic artists who designs fonts. This cool font is indicative of her geometric style. Olyff also combs beaches for stones that looks like letters. These collected stone alphabets are so beautiful. It’s amazing to see, how in the right hands, little blobs of granite, slate, pumice and marble can come together as 26 letters of the alphabet.

desert rose

January 26, 2021

It’s called Clay House, and I can see why. Everything about this interior is soft and tactile. The walls remind me of Marrakech, where everything’s the colour of pink sand. I love the brass taps, elegant olive trees and plump, creamy cushions strewn on the banquette. Have a look at the firm’s other projects, all very thoughtful, with playful nods to a variety of cultures and styles. The space is small, hence her clothes hanging from the ceiling, but it’s delightfully compact with everything this gal seems to need.

jolie laide

January 25, 2021

What I appreciate about Sarah Graham‘s flower paintings, is that they aren’t pretty. We have enough of those in the world. I read this morning that the word ugly comes from an old Norse word ugga which means “aggressive.” Graham’s work demands attention. Her nineteenth-century London studio is filled with vintage botanical drawings, exotic plants, fossils and animal skulls. Nature is a life long passion, and the entomology archives at the Natural History Museum are her playground. Her giant butterflies and blooms capture the beautiful ugliness that is nature. The magnification of every stamen and antenna accentuates the grotesque, the bizarre, the outlandishness of flora and fauna. “It would upset me greatly if someone said my work was pretty,” said Sarah Graham.  

brief affair

January 22, 2021

When it comes to underwear, I’d take my M&S cotton pants over lace knickers any day. I discovered ARQ today, and the simple shapes and brilliant colours are right up my alley. I like the idea of mixing and matching colours. And if you’ve got sprogs in your life, the kid’s underwear –– camisoles, bloomers and bodysuits –– looks terrific, too.


January 21, 2021

It’s not just because the sofa is pink that I love this room. The herringbone floor and strawberry sorbet walls are lovely, too. I like the clash of pink and orange, and that densely patterned rug in the middle of the room. It seems like light pours into every room. The etched glass in the entryway is delightful, as is that plant filled terrace. The house is in Amsterdam, and no doubt on Airbnb if you’re ever heading to the Netherlands.


January 20, 2021

Everyday, as the sun goes down and the kitchen lights come on, I take my children for a walk around our neighbourhood. That slither of time when the lights are on and the blinds are not yet drawn is a different kind of magic hour. We see sinks full of dishes, winter jackets strewn on kitchen counters and tables set for dinner. We see the writer, David Macfarlane sitting in his bay window playing his guitar. Our friend, Erin is always at her stove. And the other day, we spotted Rosalinda doing her evening exercises in the living room. We are voyeurs, nosey parkers, yes –– but beyond that, and more importantly, our evening walks are about connection. There’s something reassuring in these glimpses into people’s daily rhythms and routines. That they are just like ours. And that we are all in this together, even when we’re not. Have a look at the Out My Window series by photographer, Gail Albert Halaban. From Paris to Istanbul, she captures these quotidian moments quite movingly.

vase up

January 19, 2021

In an ideal world, all tulips and roses and ranunculus would make their way to a vessel such as this. With their whimsical, wavy handles, I love Morgan park‘s vases. I can’t think of a flower that wouldn’t want to bathe here. I don’t own all that many vases, but if I were shopping for one, something like this shiny green beauty would top my list. I picture it filled with plump orange roses, or a single agapanthus.

chaises and armoires and mirrors, oh my

January 19, 2021

Antiquing is one of my favourite pastimes. Before we had children, it’s how Jason spent our weekends, scouring antique shops in search of a gem. Our home is littered with relics from that life; vintage chairs, lamps and teacups. I could spend hours on 1stDibs fantasy shopping for velvet chaises and rococo mirrors, and recently, I discovered L’antiques in the U.K. I love this Swedish cupboard and this 19th century clock. This 19th Century Lyonnais bistro table (spotted in the home of fabric designer, Emma Grant) is a dream. I imagine long, decadent dinners and fried, morning after breakfasts around this table. Don’t you?

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